


A Matter of Time

by London_Fog



Category: Dragon Age, Merlin (TV)
Genre: Crossover, Dragon Age-Verse, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-04-02
Updated: 2012-04-02
Packaged: 2017-11-02 22:31:44
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,108
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/374071
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/London_Fog/pseuds/London_Fog
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It was going all right for a while, until Arthur opened his big mouth and asked Merlin very seriously, “You’re not a maleficar, are you?” Dragon Age AU, set in the DA-verse.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Matter of Time

**Author's Note:**

> I need to stop writing crossovers. But they’re so much fun. Why is Gwaine a rogue/archer, you ask? I don’t know either. Don’t ask, shh.

When Kilgharrah had sent Gwaine and him on a task to assist an Arthur Pendragon in slaying a rampant Archdemon that was manifesting south of the Korcari Wilds in the uncharted territories, Merlin had not expected to be forced in to working with an extremely obnoxious prat of a warrior.

Actually, in retrospect, he ought to have expected exactly that, because that was Gwaine’s  first remark upon receiving the mission, but Merlin was a nice person who gave second (and many other subsequent) chances, and insisted that there was a good possibility that Arthur was a decent person, because he knew Lancelot, and Lancelot was a great man.

That opinion lasted for about as long as two seconds into their meeting in Denerim, where Arthur, upon seeing them, made an extremely loud and dismayed remark at having to work with a mage and “what abominations they were.”

Merlin was ready to smite him right there and then, if it wasn’t for Lancelot’s look of silent pleading and Gwaine’s sniggering and unspoken ‘ _I-told-you-so’_.

But because he was nice, and emphasised on the ‘chance-giving’ aspect of himself, he forced a smile on his face and a hand as he introduced himself.

“I’m Merlin, and this is my friend, Gwaine.”

Arthur responded by scoffing loudly, but before he could get another word in, Lancelot had jumped in to take Merlin’s hand, and responding even louder that he was Lancelot and that was Arthur, and yes, they were very pleased to work together with the both of them.

Beside him, Gwaine shook with the urge to shoot a couple of arrows into Arthur.

For the next hour or so, it started to proceed better, mostly in part due to Lancelot’s mollifying efforts and a decent flow of good ale to soothe Gwaine’s irritation, while Merlin and Lancelot chatted and caught up with one another’s adventures and such.

Until Arthur opened his big mouth and asked seriously, “You’re not a maleficar, are you?”

The chain of events that were sparked off instantaneously was intractable. Merlin had stood up, outraged, and declared in anger that he was a “perfectly qualified mage of the Circle, thank you very much,” with Gwaine yelling at Arthur and challenging him to a duel to show him his place while Lancelot tried helplessly to calm them down.

And Arthur, being the idiot that he was, asserted that he would take Gwaine up on his offer, except that there was no honour in fighting a dirty rogue. Gwaine countered by throwing a punch in Arthur’s face, and it escalated into a very messy tavern brawl that resulted in the tavern keeper throwing all four of them out into the rain.

Merlin then glowered at Arthur and exclaimed that, “if only you would stop acting like the King of Ferelden for one moment-” to which Arthur rebuked triumphantly that he was the _Prince_ of Ferelden, son of the King, and he could behave any damn way he saw fit, which nearly resulted in yet another fight, only stopped by a rare moment of Lancelot becoming genuinely annoyed and shouting that if they continued to behave like children, then they could all abandon the mission and return to Kilgharrah to explain the failure.

Naturally, they all shut up for a good while, and Lancelot wondered why he didn’t do this from the start.

\---

Needless to say, things didn’t take a miraculous turn for the better. They travelled in uncomfortable silence the next day, which was spiked only by occasional jabs from Arthur’s questioning and Gwaine’s sarcasm. Lancelot kept a vigilant watch on their surroundings, and left it to Merlin to ensure that no other fights broke out. The fact that it only happened thrice throughout the day led Lancelot into thinking they were finally making progress.

He was sorely mistaken when they were ambushed by a group of werewolves by the Brecilian Outskirts.

To say that their teamwork was bad was a grave understatement – the fact was that the total lack of it nearly cost them their lives. Merlin’s line of fire was obstructed when Arthur’s blows threw himself in front of Merlin, and Gwaine’s arrows were thrown off course when he’s attacked unexpectedly by a werewolf.

Fighting off the beasts took longer than they ought to have, and they suffered more injuries and wounds than should have been possible, most of them from friendly fire which felt more premeditated than inadvertent.

“This is your fault!” Gwaine growled, “If it wasn’t for your big head I wouldn’t have broken any bones!”

“My fault!?  How was it _my_ fault when you were too drunk to see an oncoming attack from the side?” Arthur demanded heatedly.

“I was busy giving Merlin support when the wolf you were supposed to have slayed attacked! Of course it was your fault!”

“Oh, please!” Merlin snapped, and cast a mass rejuvenation spell wearily. Arthur seemed to recoil visibly at being healed, but Lancelot stepped on his foot before he could speak.

“Look, I think we need to get a combat plan together.” Lancelot implored gently as he took out an Injury Kit to tend to Gwaine. “I don’t think any of us would want another… fiasco to happen.”

Arthur huffed loudly. “Well, how’s this for a plan? Lancelot and I will deal with all fights, and _Merlin_ and pretty boy there can just stand there and look pretty.”

“Hey!” Merlin cried, “I didn’t hear you saying that when I saved your arse from a werewolf bite just now!”

Arthur scowled. “My arse wouldn’t need saving if Gwaine wasn’t shrieking about being attacked!”

“Gentlemen, _please_.” Lancelot admonished. “We’re all civilised men here. Surely we can come up with a good plan and have this mission over and done with?” He directed that at Arthur, who had the decency to shrink with embarrassment.

“Fine.” Arthur said, coughing into his fist lightly to hide his mortification. “Let’s start by listing down all our abilities and talents first, then. From there, we can devise a proper plan that best utilises our skills.”

\---

Arthur, as it turned out, despite being an absolute prat, was rather brilliant at strategy (except Merlin would never say that out loud, and neither would Gwaine, despite grudging agreement of that statement.)  As they huddled around the fire of the campsite, Merlin watched as Arthur poured through papers and prepared move sets, and he nodded every once in a while when Arthur instructed him on combat tactics.

The whole arrangement proved to work out, as evident in their next battle against a group of Hurlock Alphas that found their way into their camp two days later. Gwaine’s scattershots hit home, stunning the Hurlocks and bought time for Merlin to cast chain lightning on them, allowing Arthur and Lancelot to quickly dispatch them.

On the fourth night of the mission, Merlin found himself on first watch, and Gwaine snored lightly behind him. He prodded the fire, feeling slightly bored when Arthur sat down beside him, clearing his throat loudly.

“Lancelot tells me that my treatment and initial evaluation of you have been… harsh and uncalled for.” Arthur declared pompously.

“Huh.” Merlin scowled inwardly because after Arthur’s terrible attitude he had hopped from Mr “Gives-Chances” to Mr “Let’s-commit-mutiny-and-help-feed-him-to-the-Darkspawn.” When he had conveyed his disdain to Kilgharrah through Taliesin’s Crystal, the dragon had laughed and told him that they were “two sides of the same coin” and that Merlin was destined to help Arthur to greatness, before cutting off the communication link.

He thought it was kind of unfair of Arthur to come and apologise now, because he was rather determined to dislike Arthur and to prove Kilgharrah wrong, because he had no mind to help any prat to any kind of greatness.

“- you see?” Arthur was saying when Merlin shook himself out of his thoughts. He blinked at Arthur tiredly, who rolled his eyes. “You weren’t listening to me at all, were you?”

Merlin shrugged. “Just sleepy.”

Arthur shifted beside him, ‘hmm-ing’ loudly. “Well, then, go to sleep. I’ll cover your watch.”

See? Totally unfair.

“I’m fine. I’m not _that_ tired.” Merlin wasn’t about to give in, anyhow, except his traitorous mind decided to yawn right at that moment. Arthur raised an eyebrow, his point proven, and Merlin groaned. It was bad enough that Arthur thought badly of mages, no need to let him believe that they were wimps too.

“Don’t be such a wuss, _Merlin_. Go.”

“I appreciate the thought, _Arthur_ , but it’s really no big deal.” Actually, now that Arthur had mentioned it, the thought of going to sleep was rather alluring.

Arthur paused, before waving a hand about. “Is it, you know, that?” He asked with a wary eye. Merlin sighed, knowing that Arthur was talking about the Fade.

“No. It doesn’t bother me that much.” He picked at the hem of his robe. “Is that really what you think of mages? That all of us are going to succumb to becoming maleficars because we’re that weak?” He didn’t mean to sound too aggressive, but he was exhausted and, maybe, that was how he really wanted to confront Arthur.

Arthur looked momentarily scandalised, as if unsure of how to respond, and spluttered. “Well, yes. No. Maybe. I don’t know.” He breathed sharply, rubbing his palm on to his temple. “Father always said that mages shouldn’t be trusted. And the Chantry… the Chantry taught that mages should be feared.” Arthur paused. “That’s just how it is.”

Merlin regarded Arthur carefully for a moment. “And you? What do you think?”

“I don’t know. That’s just it.” Arthur turned to the fire and tossed a lumpy pebble into it. “I’d say that Father and the Chantry were right, but you’ve saved my arse thrice so far. I counted. Even after that bad start and all.”

Merlin’s resolve to dislike Arthur was slowly crumbling by the second, so he mumbled something incoherent and took him up on his offer and went to sleep.

\---

The mission continued reasonably smoothly after that. Aside from the occasional hiccoughs caused by ambushes, the journey across the Korcari Wilds was fair.

Their planning and discussion to smoke the Archdemon out was cut short, however, when it came charging at them when they began wandering the gloomy desert while trying to decide the best course of action.

Arthur was yelling orders above the Archdemon’s roaring, while Gwaine launched a storm of arrows to strike the Hurlocks summoned by it. Merlin shouted for the group to pull back as he cast a combination of blizzard and tempest spells to unleash a devastating storm that levelled the entire army of lower demons, clearing the path to the Archdemon for Arthur and Lancelot.

They continued to rain attacks on it, striking every bit of open flesh as hard as they could to wound it, until Gwaine got a steady target on its eye and shot a carefully timed arrow, blinding it. The Archdemon howled, and Arthur called for them to regroup and fall back to throw ranged attacks at it instead, as it went on a rampage, crushing trees beneath its massive paws.

“I think we’re close to bringing it down!” Merlin yelled over the Archdemon’s wailing, and cast a sleeping spell on it, panting.

“Yeah?” Arthur wheezed. “You think one good blow would be enough?” He swung his sword with his wrist, readying himself to strike that final hit, when Merlin raised a hand to stop him.

“Yeah. But it has to be me.”

Arthur scowled. “Don’t be silly, Merlin. What difference would it make?”

Merlin glared at Arthur, “I don’t have time to explain, just-” he paused, glancing over at Gwaine and Lancelot, who were approaching the two of them. “Kill me if it takes me, okay? And be a good King.”

He drowned out Arthur’s protests as he summoned a strike of lightning on the Archdemon, and as it gave one last roar, he found himself slipping into unconsciousness.

-

He was in the Fade when he opened his eyes again, a desire demon smirking at him. He glowered, scrambling up and preparing himself for a fight.

“Merlin.” The demon purred, stalking close to him.

“You?” He mocked. “That was your attempt at tainting a dragon? I’ve seen better, believe me.”

The demon laughed coldly and shrilly, and Merlin’s fists tightened. “But I’ve got what I wanted,” it remarked, stroking Merlin’s cheek with one of its sharp talon-like claw. “I’ve got you now.”

“If you think for even one second that I’ll let you take over my body-” Merlin began, but the demon interrupted in irritation.

“Give me the boy. Give me Prince Arthur, and you’ll live.”

Merlin frowned. “If it’s Arthur you want, why go through me? Why start a commotion that would draw me into it?” Archdemons could only be properly slain by Grey Wardens, and Arthur wasn’t one. It would have been much easier to simply pose as a maleficar to attract the Templar’s and eventually, Arthur’s attention.

The demon sniffed in disdain, and said, “You’re bonded. Can’t get him without your agreement. So. Give me the boy.”

Merlin stared, before replying simply, “No.”

“No?” The demon raised a terrifyingly long eyebrow. “You don’t even like the boy. Was it not your sentiment just a few days ago that you would happily kick him into the Deep Roads?” The demon drew itself to its full height, and towered over Merlin. “Are you willing to die for him?”

“Sentiments can change.”

The demon cackled gleefully, “If you hand him over to me willingly, you get to live. If you don’t, I’ll kill you, and _then_ take over his body, and for your folly, I’ll turn you into an Arcane Horror, where you shall serve as one of us! Don’t you see, Merlin? If you are wise, give me the boy!”

“Or, option C, in which I kill you.” He said, and cast a hasty frost spell at the demon, blasting a cone of cold ice from his hands at it.

“You insolent brat!” The demon screeched as it retaliated by shooting a fiery ball at him, “I will kill you, and I will have your head stuffed for a trophy!”

Merlin cursed inwardly as he jumped out of the spell’s range, and summoned a lightning storm to shock the demon, who cast an Arcane Shield to protect itself and fired a Weakness spell at him. Feeling his strength diminishing, he quickly weaved a Glyph of Neutralisation on the ground, trapping the demon and draining its energy.

“Stop! Stop! I give in! I’ll give you anything!” The demon wailed pathetically.

Merlin breathed tiredly, feeling himself almost out of power because the Glyph exhausted a good deal of his magic, but replied as adamantly as he could.

“ _No._ ” With that, he waved his arms and pulled together an Arcane Bolt at the demon, and it exploded in a great cloud of dark smoke that overwhelmed Merlin, and he blacked out.

\---

He woke up to the starry night sky blinking at him, and he gasped sharply for air, feeling the aching muscles in his body.

“Merlin!”

He groaned aloud and pushed himself up weakly. A pair of hands gripped him, guiding him gently to lean on a tree trunk.

“Merlin, you idiot, you’re awake – thank the Maker!”

He blinked blearily, and when his vision cleared and came into focus, he found Arthur glaring at him unhappily.

“Whassumatter?”

Arthur’s scowl intensified as he pressed a skin of water into his hands. “You died, _that’s what_. Gwaine told me after you went and blasted that demon – why didn’t you tell me that killing an Archdemon was a suicide mission!?”

Merlin gulped down the water, and sighed deeply as he became more awake. “Well, only a Grey Warden could kill it properly. And anyway, there wasn’t any Archdemons, so it doesn’t matter.” Arthur glowered.

“That’s not the point! You could have _died_.”

He snorted. “You’re probably the only person in this world who would get angry at being saved.”

“You could have died.” Arthur repeated. Merlin shrugged.

“Where’s Gwaine and Lancelot?”

“Out collecting firewood, and don’t change the subject – really, what were you thinking?”

Merlin sighed again. “I don’t know, okay? Kilgharrah – he’s one of my mentors – he said that, well, there were plans for me, so I figured there had to be some kind of catch, and that I wasn’t going to die today. And look, there was, so here I am.” No way was he going to tell Arthur about what Kilgharrah thought, the other had an ego big enough already.

 Arthur wasn’t content though. “That was still stupid. It could have happened.” He said grumpily. “What was it anyway, if it wasn’t an Archdemon? What did it want?”

“A desire demon. You know, world domination and all. The usual.” Arthur still looked displeased, so he added, “It’s all over now. So stop worrying.”

“I’m not worrying!” Arthur protested. “Go to sleep.”

Merlin laughed, and let himself be lulled to rest by his exhaustion.

\---

Within a few days, they returned to normality and the group parted ways, with Arthur and Lancelot returning to Denerim while Merlin and Gwaine headed back to the Wardens’ Keep to report the success of their mission. Kilgharrah praised them on a task well done, with a glint in his eye that Merlin didn’t like.

He was shelving some books in the library when a cough interrupted his thoughts. He turned, and saw Arthur watching him.

“Hey.”  

Arthur smiled weakly. “Hey yourself.”

Merlin shifted, setting the pile of books in his arms on a nearby stand. “So, uh. Why are you here?”

“Not the view, that’s for certain.” Arthur drawled, picking up one of the books and flipping through it with an air of false nonchalance. “I, uh, decided to join the Grey Wardens.”

Merlin gaped in shock. “ _What!?_ Why?” He thought about the Joining and the possibility of failure. “That’s a bad idea. A very bad idea.”

“I already passed the Joining, if that’s what you’re thinking.” Arthur snapped, but with little ire.

“Oh.”

“Yes.” Arthur huffed. “Your lack of faith in me is disconcerting.”

“Your head is big enough, I think.” Merlin quipped. “So, did you need help finding your guide?”

“Actually, I was told to find you. You’re supposed to show me around.” Arthur replied smugly, holding out a letter. Merlin took it, and grimaced slightly when he saw Kilgharrah’s mark on it. “You don’t have to look so displeased about it, you know?”

Merlin shook his head, “No, no that’s not it – wait, doesn’t this mean you’re under my charge now?”

“Don’t talk about that.”

Merlin brightened happily. “Actually, I think I will.”


End file.
